


21 Guns (You and I)

by AllegroCrescendo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: "hm I should really write a fanfic using a Green Day Song", Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Arguing, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Giving Up, I hurt myself writing this, I went to a Green Day concert and then went, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Internal Monologue, Leaving, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, POV Multiple, POV Victor Nikiforov, Post-Canon, References to Depression, Relationship Issues, Relationship Problems, Running Away, Songfic, and now we're here, and then 21 guns played in the car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegroCrescendo/pseuds/AllegroCrescendo
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor's relationship is passed the honeymoon phase and is under serious stress. With Viktor turning to alcohol to solve his problems, and Yuuri distancing himself, nothing can go right.__________It begins with petty arguments.Viktor didn’t vacuum right or Yuuri forgot to pick up the mail and the electricity bill is due tomorrow. They were small, domestic arguments that Yuuri expected to happen when he picked up his life and moved it to Saint Petersburg for Viktor. His mother had told him all couples had arguments in their lifetime because there was no such thing as a perfect relationship and Yuuri didn’texpectto have a perfect relationship with Viktor. He had taken Viktor down from his pedestal and seen him no longer a god or someone to worship, but as his fiance who sometimes forgot to properly wash all the shampoo out of his hair.And then the arguments escalated.





	21 Guns (You and I)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetlolitapop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetlolitapop/gifts).



> Hellohellohello,
> 
> Allegro here!
> 
> As mentioned in the tags, I did attend a Green Day concert about 3 days ago and let me tell you, it was the best night of my life. While they didn't perform _21 Guns_ that's okay because they did do Good Riddance and Wake Me Up When September Ends and they're Green Day they could sit on stage and eat chips all 3 hours and I would still call it the best concert of my life.
> 
> ANYWAY,
> 
> As I've said, this is inspired by the song[ 21 Guns](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r00ikilDxW4) by Green Day. The lyrics from the song are in blocks and start off with an italicized line. Archive is being a pain when it comes to formatting for me. I've chosen to omit some parts of the song for the sake of being non-repetitive as well as the flow of the story. 
> 
> As U.S. Olympic Medalist, Johnny Weir, has mentioned, never before has a coach been a competitive skater at the same time. I'd imagine it'd put a crazy amount of stress on Viktor and without a doubt affect their relationship.
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING**
> 
> There are mentions of alcoholism and episodes of anxiety in this fanfiction. The way I've chosen to depict Yuuri's anxiety experiences are 100% pulled from my own experiences and people close to me. They're not traditional and they may seem irrational to you, but they're realistic and they're not supposed to be pretty. The alcohol abuse is also not supposed to be pretty. Alcoholism is a horrible illness and destroys not only the alcoholic's lives but their loved one's lives too. 
> 
> I'm going to gift this one to my good friend, because not only has she been there for me through a lot, she puts up with my cry texting over my own writing and her own. Love ya, Lola!
> 
> Without further ado, I present:
> 
> 21 Guns (You and I)

_Do you know what’s worth fighting for?_  
When it’s not worth dying for  
Does it take your breath away  
And you feel yourself suffocating?  
Does the pain weigh out the pride  
And you look for a place to hide  
Did someone break your heart inside?  
You’re in ruins... 

It began with petty arguments. 

Viktor didn’t vacuum right or Yuuri forgot to pick up the mail and the electricity bill is due tomorrow. They were small, domestic arguments that Yuuri expected to happen when he picked up his life and moved it to Saint Petersburg for Viktor. His mother had told him all couples had arguments in their lifetime because there was no such thing as a perfect relationship and Yuuri didn’t _expect_ to have a perfect relationship with Viktor. He had taken Viktor down from his pedestal and seen him no longer a god or someone to worship, but as his fiance who sometimes forgot to properly wash all the shampoo out of his hair. 

And then the arguments escalated.

They began with Viktor’s spending habits. Sure, they had thousands upon millions of dollars combined together in their Savings accounts. But did they honestly need gold frames for every certificate and every medal? From there, it was no better. Viktor would disappear and come home at late hours in the night reeking of alcohol. Yuuri wouldn’t want to go out on dates some nights because his anxiety would go crazy being seen in public with Viktor because the laws in Russia weren’t the most lenient. Other times, Viktor seemed absolutely distant from Yuuri from time to times. Of course, Yuuri responded to this with his own distance. Going to bed before Viktor arrived from his outings as opposed to waiting for him as he used to when they began. 

While they made love, it left Yuuri feeling empty and hollow on the inside, The spark that broke into a hellflame with every one of Viktor’s touch and caresses had been smothered out until it was a nothing more than a dying ember. As soon as they would both finish, they would lay down and roll over so their backs faced each other. At least, that’s what Yuuri presumed. Because that’s what he did. He turned his back to Viktor so he could hide his tears and Viktor wouldn’t have to worry about him any more than he did. 

Yuuri wondered at times if moving to Saint Petersburg was a mistake. If even staying in Saint Petersburg was the right choice to make. The young man had followed after Viktor because Viktor was a star that shone so bright. The same star that helped Yuuri claw his way out of the dark abyss he had fallen into. Now, out of the abyss, Viktor was a sun that was painful to look at. Who burned Yuuri’s eyes but Yuuri couldn’t force himself to look away because he was afraid that if he looked away for even a second, Viktor would be gone. Their relationship was once so full of passion and romance, but now, the two men were like two matches who had burned each other out,

He couldn’t take this anymore. It was eating him alive. Every waking moment was spent worrying about what he did wrong. What he could have done better. What he did to annoy Viktor. What he could do to satisfy Viktor. He wasn’t an amazing skater. After only three seasons as his coach, he was sure Viktor was tired of him. Tired of his limitations and his anxieties on and off the ice. He wondered...no. He _knew_ that Viktor deserved better than what he had to offer him. He only hoped that Viktor hadn’t realized the same and perhaps that he never would. Because he couldn’t fathom a life where Viktor wasn’t part of it. If it came to it, Yuuri would wither away like a rose. And only his thorns would remain. 

It was a suffocating thought. One that haunted Yuuri and kept him up at night, staring at the dresser across the room. One that made him fall on jumps that came like breathing to him. One that sent him into anxiety attacks that spiraled into madness and left him hiding in the corner of their laundry room, muffling the sobs that wracked his body with the back of his hand. It was a thought that sent him back to the dark place he had been only four years ago when he ended dead last at the Grand Prix Final and thoughts of worthlessness and incapability plagued his mind. Where he spends days in bed with the covers over his head and unable to move because the shaking wouldn’t stop because the thoughts wouldn’t stop because the hole in his chest refused to patch itself up and the demons that lived in his mind wouldn’t stop tearing it apart.

Those were the days Phichit had to spoon feed him chicken soup only to have him vomit it back up in an hour and days where Phichit would have to lug Yuuri out of bed and lay him on the couch because he had to wash Yuuri’s sheets because he had wet them because he had rather do that than get out of bed where he wouldn't have to show his face to the world. To a world that laughed at him when he popped his triple axel and fell on his quad lutz. He couldn’t face a world where he knew his mother waited. He hated hearing her voice that night. He could tell she was disappointed. They all were. Yuuri had eaten up their money to train in a sport he couldn’t even get fourth place in. He was sure that they wanted him to quit desperately but never said anything to spare his feelings. He was sure of many things because lying in bed for days on end gives you time to sort out your thoughts. 

He stood in the living room, staring at a wall that Viktor had drunkenly written on with Sharpie in Cyrillic. Yuuri’s knowledge of Russian ended at speaking and hearing. He couldn’t read or write in Russian. Of course, he knew a small, handful of words. The words he could make out gave him absolutely no context clues. The words he could make out were ‘ _alcohol_ ’ ‘ _light_ ’,and ‘ _fight_. 

Turning away, he wrung his hands and looked around at the house. It was sometime between 7 and 10 at night. He had lost track of time as soon as he started to stress clean because it didn’t matter what he did, he just had to throw himself at something so he wouldn’t succumb to his mind and to his anxieties. Yuuri scrubbed the floors until his hands ached and cleaned, vacuumed and dusted every available surface just so he could think about anything, _anything_ but the thoughts that tried to take over his mind. He couldn’t force Viktor to take care of him the way Phichit did back in Detroit. It wouldn’t be fair him. It would be the straw that broke the camel of their relationship’s back. On a day that seemed to many light years away to Yuuri now, Viktor had told him that he never saw Yuuri as weak. He wondered if after living with him for three years, if he still held the same opinion. 

Looking around helplessly, he resolved to pack his bag in preparation for his next competition. His season had started at the Lombardia Trophy with a second place win under a dynamic American skater who only managed to snag first place with a couple of points. Next up would be his first Grand Prix assignment: Skate America. Viktor would be competing at the same assignment, so it would be interesting to see how things would play out. While it was still a couple of weeks away, Yuuri decided to start packing now, just to give him something to do. Besides, why put off something that could be done today for tomorrow? He was just starting to back right now because it was always best to start early. 

He opened their closet, pulled out his black suitcase and placed it on the bed. He started to mentally plan all he needed and the way it would fit into his suitcase. An emotionless expression made itself at home on his face as he tried to focus on nothing but his task in hand. 

_When you’re at the end of the road_  
And you’ve lost all sense of control  
And your thoughts have taken their toll  
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul  
Your faith walks on broken glass  
And the hangover doesn’t pass  
Nothing’s ever built to last  
You’re in ruins.... 

It’s started all with Viktor’s dilemma. 

He was old. Yes, he was only 30 years old but either way, he was well past the normal age of retirement for most figure skaters. In fact, Yuuri was ripe for retirement as well. But he could never bear the thought of either of them leaving the ice. It was what had brought them together. What had filled the hole in their hearts until they could fill it for each other. It was a terrifying thought for Viktor to think. For 22 years, Viktor had surprised the crowd time and time again with a dazzling array of programs, stunts, and scandals. But never once had the thought of retirement ever crossed his mind.

Until now. Because there was an ache in his bones that refused to go away. Because there were times where he struggled with run-throughs of his free skate because he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to push on. Because there were times where quad flips just didn’t come to him as easily and he had taken far too long to master the quad axel than he had liked. Because there was a difficulty in keeping up in the new era of figure skating where quads ruled and quints were coming all too fast as opposed to when Viktor was a debuting senior and his impeccable quad flip had been the talk of the season.

And he had let his frustrations out on the person he promised himself he would never hurt. He had argued with Yuuri over the pettiest things and argued with him for hours on end because both of them were too stubborn to admit that they were wrong and that spilled milk wasn’t worth arguing over. Because time and time again, Yuuri and Viktor’s passion ignited each other until there were burning and reaching out to each other and burning each other again in a vicious and ironic cycle and only creating a massive fire that was out of control. When the fire had burned all it could, it slowly died and made itself into a pile of ashes.

Viktor didn’t know what to do anymore. He was at a fork in the road. He didn’t know which path to take because he felt as if one wrong move could end it all. He could end it all and move away to create a new life over the shattered glass remains of the one he had run away from like a coward. But he wasn’t so sure if that was the life he wanted to live. Because he wasn’t good at much else besides figure skating and he would inevitably be drawn back to the ice as a teacher, coach or choreographer and he would never truly be able to escape his old life. He couldn’t escape his old life and he didn’t have the heart, nor courage or will to do so because in reality, he didn’t want to run away from his old life, no, he wanted to escape the pain it brought, but he didn’t want to leave any of it behind. 

He couldn’t go on as both a coach and competitor. He couldn’t keep pretending the longer hours weren’t getting to him and the constant closeness to Yuuri wasn’t driving him mad. He didn’t love Yuuri any less, no, but he did know that healthy couples did need time apart from each other from time to time. He also knew that he was taking out his stress on Yuuri and couldn’t communicate that properly to him because not only was he an only child of a single mother, he was on his own for most of his life. He never had to explain anything to anyone because no one ever questioned his whimsical ways (except for Yakov, who would only yell at him at most. Of course, it went in through one ear and out the other). But with Yuuri, it was different. It was different in the way that he was his soulmate. His lifelong partner and Viktor could want nothing more in their personal life than tranquility and peace. He couldn’t get that when he hoped as his coach that he would get first place, but as his competitor hoped he would get second. He couldn’t hope to make Yuuri the best there was when he himself was actively trying to do the same. It was impossible. Unfathomable. It was an outlandish idea, to begin with, and at first, he wanted to believe with his entire heart and soul that it would work somehow and someway but as the years dragged on, Viktor knew all good skating careers would eventually come to an end, but not his. Not yet. He couldn’t end it yet.

But he couldn’t bear to leave Yuuri behind either. Yuuri, who loved pork cutlet bowls and was hesitant at times to eat them because he was afraid of it all going to his thighs. Yuuri, whose eyes crinkled when he laughed and sometimes snorted if he laughed too hard. Yuuri, who loved a Japanese tea that was hard to find in Russia but Viktor knew it was in a small store run by an elderly woman a two-hour drive away. Yuuri, who impulsively gave Viktor a ring and didn’t deny the fact that yes, it indeed was an engagement ring. Yuuri, who likes to be kissed on a spot right underneath his ear and next to his jaw. Yuuri, who begged Viktor after the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona to stay as his coach. Yuuri, who was ticklish in his armpits and was too stubborn to laugh, so it took a good five seconds of tickling before he would break into unrestricted laughter. Yuuri, who sometimes got too excited to tell Viktor a story and forgets the English translation for a word, and resolves to stare at Viktor helplessly whilst waving his hands around. His Yuuri, who had shone as a beacon to him when he had been drowning in a sea of loneliness and taught him how to live again. 

His Yuuri, who as of late, doesn’t wait for Viktor to come home anymore (if Viktor was going to be honest, he wouldn’t want to wait for himself to come home either.) Yuuri, who Viktor vaguely remembers in a spotty, drunken memory, helping him bathe when he comes home from bars with vomit all over himself. Yuuri, who hugs himself when Viktor and he argue over the trinkets Viktor spends thousands of dollars on (because those things he can control. He can’t control his life much, but he can control his purchases). Yuuri, who turns away from Viktor’s vodka breath at night because if Viktor can’t drown his intrusive thoughts at bars, he would do so with whatever alcohol was at hand at home. Yuuri, who closes his eyes and turns away from Viktor while they make love, as opposed to when they used to kiss with a burning passion and hold a fiery gaze. Yuuri, who thinks that Viktor doesn’t ever wake up to his sobs at night. Yuuri, who has let Viktor shatter his glass heart time and time again in the last couple of months and cut himself with the pieces he was left to pick up. 

What did the world expect of him? It was a question he asked himself every season. Once he knew the answer, he did the exact opposite. It was an odd circumstance he found himself in but it worked for him so he never said much about it. Instead, he found himself always fighting the current. He was a Sisyphus; rolling his boulder to the top of the hill only the have it roll right back to the beginning right when he was at the top. A never-ending cycle that exhausted him but he was the Living Legend, damn it! He could do the impossible! He did all that people thought he couldn’t and he did it all with a graceful smile. So why? Why was it so hard to choose between the two things? Because as selfish as Viktor wanted to be, he knew he was bound to lose one or the other, so he thought it would be easier for him to choose. But it wasn’t. It was a painstaking choice that kept him up at night staring at Yuuri’s tan back, longing to reach out and wrap his arm around him and hold him close and tell him everything would be okay even though he didn’t know if that was true but he needed Yuuri to believe it was true because if Yuuri believed it, Viktor could believe it too. 

Sitting in his car in an empty parking lot, he stared across to the bright neon signs of a bar. A bar he had frequented so much in the last couple of months, the bartenders knew when to bring Viktor his next drink. A bar where women and men alike flirted with him, only to be sent away by a quick flash of his engagement ring and an apathetic stare. A bar where he found himself crying and throwing up in the bathroom all too often over the daily struggles of his life and the huge change he knew was coming to his life. He was going to have to choose between Yuuri or skating, and if he didn’t choose fast enough, he would lose both. Instead of having to think about the choice, he would drink away the thoughts with vodka chased by Coke and anything that would burn his throat enough so he could focus on the pain in his throat rather than his overwhelming fear of losing the love of his life and the only thing that kept him grounded the last three years. Yuuri had given him the strength to fight through another Olympic season, another world title and several others titles, but he didn’t know if he could leech off that strength anymore. If it would even be fair to him. 

The building of the bar seemed hostile the more he stared at it. A drunk couple stumbled out the bar, hanging over each other and giggling. The woman had tripped and fallen onto the ground, staring up at the sky and rambling incoherently. The man had flung himself to her side and kissed her senselessly. After a security guard had spotted them, he hassled them to stand up and leave, because such a scene would be bad publicity. But the sight made him think back to all those times with Yuuri. Back when things were much simpler and he didn’t have to fight to get through every day like he did now. Where he could come home from practice to Yuuri’s kisses and a hot meal. Where he and Yuuri would take vacations to random locations they had seen on TV because Viktor had seen the way Yuuri’s eyes lit up as he watched and knew that he would fight tooth and nail to keep that sparkle in his eyes. 

Could he stand to down another drink and come home to only the foyer light on and the loud silence of his home? Not a home. Not anymore. That house was no longer his home when the fire that once burned too bright had been snuffed out and left Viktor in the cold. It was frigid feeling to only have his fiance text him that his cold dinner would be left in the microwave and that Makkachin needed more food. He knew, realistically speaking, that Yuuri didn’t owe him anything because how could Yuuri owe him something when Viktor would come to practice with a hangover that lingered around him as a punishment for more than a night of drinking. He knew he was only prolonging the inevitable, but he would make the inevitable wait for the rest of his life if it meant he could keep skating and Yuuri by his side forever.

But he couldn’t. 

And so he had to make a choice. 

His choice was all too simple now. 

He had to let go of what he used loved the most. 

_Did you try to live on your own?_  
_When you burned down the house and home_  
_Did you stand too close to the fire?_  
_Like a liar looking for forgiveness_  
_From a stone_

Yuuri had spent most of his time packing sitting on the floor of the bedroom, crying. He cried and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore was lying on the hardwood floor. Makkachin padded in and had licked his face solemnly. Yuuri couldn’t muster the strength to reach up and pet her, so he reached out to pet her paw. Makkachin stayed by his side until the front door opened and immediately ran off to greet whoever had entered. Yuuri knew who it was. But he didn’t want to face him. Not again. Not when he was drunk. He hated when Viktor was drunk, especially nowadays, where instead of being flirtatious and affectionate, he became cold and only stared at Yuuri when he tried to talk some sense into him. He had lived the last couple of months in isolation from Viktor. By himself. He knew what was coming soon. One of those phases in his life where everything would go wrong and nothing would be right and he would have to fight through it himself because this time, he had no one.

Not his mother.

Not Phichit.

Not Viktor.

He could hear his fiance moving around in the kitchen as he stood up and tried to hurry packing what he had laid out on the bed. He hadn’t packed much else except for the clothes he would wear when he was practicing. His costume for this season had gone back for adjustments after some critics from the Lombardia Trophy. And he couldn’t exactly pack his skates either, especially with the competition three weeks away. He stared into the suitcase and tried to figure out where he would pack it to maximize space. Viktor always told him not to worry about having to take an extra bag but either way, he preferred to travel light. Upon hearing footsteps approaching the room, he looked up and saw Viktor appear in the doorway.

Everything happened too quickly for Yuuri to process.

Viktor was standing at the door of their room. The glass canister of green tea leaves that he clutched in his hands had fallen to the ground and the top flew off upon impact. Yuuri noticed three very important things upon his first glimpse of Viktor. Three things that scared him. The first. Viktor was not drunk. No, Viktor was very much sober because Yuuri knew Viktor well enough and long enough to know when he was and wasn’t drunk. Second. Viktor had driven all the way to a small town to retrieve Yuuri favorite brand of tea leaves from a small tea store. He must have sped the entire way because there was no way he could have made the drive in time if he drove at the speed limit because he knew that the store closed early, especially on Fridays. The third. Viktor’s eyes always gave away his true emotions. They were perhaps Yuuri’s favourite feature because there was a certain fire that burned to them. They helped convey his emotions and expressions as he skated. They could light up brighter than any star when he was happy or burn with the fire of a thousand demons when upset. 

Right now, the flame from Viktor’s eyes had completely extinguished. They kept shifting from three different places. The shirt in Yuuri’s hands, the suitcase, and Yuuri himself. His shoulders and chest rose and fell in perfect time, and a look of complete anguish crossed Viktor’s face. Yuuri realized what this all looked like to Viktor.

There was a profound silence. Enough so that Yuuri could hear the shattering of a heart. 

_When it’s time to live and let die_  
And you can’t get another try  
Something inside this heart has died  
You’re in ruins....  


Everything was happening too quickly for Viktor. 

He had come home, never setting foot inside the bar, and instead took the two-hour ride to the store that sold Yuuri’s favorite tea. He bought what the old lady allowed him to and asked her to place it inside a glass, air-tight canister for safe-keeping. He remembered that long ago, Yuuri told him that this specific type of tea should be refrigerated and was the only tea that could be. On his way home, he stopped by several supermarkets in order to assemble all the ingredients he could to make Katsudon. Although it would probably taste horrible in comparison to Hiroko’s Katsudon, he wanted to do something to lessen the pain he knew he would cause Yuuri. Upon reaching home, he laid all the ingredients out before taking the tea canister to Yuuri’s room as a peace offering.

He stood in the doorway and was absolutely shocked by what he saw. Yuuri was packing a suitcase. A suitcase. Why did Yuuri need a suitcase? Their next competition was a little under a month away. He didn’t tell Viktor he was going anywhere. He couldn’t recall being invited anyway to be a guest, such as a TV show or a skating event. Nothing. Nothing at all. So Viktor’s mind could only come to one conclusion. Yuuri was leaving him, Yuuri was leaving him because he was fed up of all of Viktor’s bullshit. Of drunken nights and petty arguments and his childish tendencies and all of his flaws. Every single thing he had ever wronged Yuuri with came flooding back to his memories and Viktor instantly couldn’t feel anymore. It was pain greater than that of Barcelona and greater than anything he had ever experienced in his life. A black hole had opened in the left side of his chest and swallowed his heart whole. 

He was instantly in front of Yuuri and on his knees, with his forehead to the ground. He reached out and grabbed Yuuri’s ankle, letting out a sob that had come from his heart. He didn’t notice how badly he was shaking until he looked up, through tearful eyes, and saw the way his hands shook as they struggled to hold onto Yuuri. He also didn’t notice the way he had abandoned all emotions and let his desolation take over. He didn’t want to lose Yuuri. He couldn’t lose Yuuri. He wouldn’t lose Yuuri. He would beg Yuuri to stay and give whatever he had to to keep him near. He would strip himself of every National, World, European and Olympic title if it meant Yuuri would stay by his side. He would be the best he could, not for himself but for Yuuri because Yuuri deserved it. Because Yuuri deserved Viktor at his very best because he had put up with him at his very worst for far too long. Because Viktor had put Yuuri through enough pain.

He would retire this season, no if, and or buts. Because he could stand a life away from the medals, and the paparazzi and away from competitive figure skating. But he couldn’t think of a life away from Yuuri. He wouldn’t want a life without Yuuri. The only thing he wanted in life again was his old life with Yuuri back. Where he would hold Yuuri in a tight embrace as they slept and then wake Yuuri with feathered kisses down his spine. Where Yuuri would sit on the counter as Viktor made _kotlety_ and occasionally slow dance with him across the room to 80s rock ballads. He wanted to go back to his and Yuuri’s golden days where everything was right between then and nothing was wrong. 

And he realized that the best days he with Yuuri were spent at his side as fiance and coach and not a fellow competitor. He thrived off of seeing Yuuri succeed and happy. He couldn’t do that when he was a fellow competitor. And so he decided on his two-hour car ride that he would give up his career. He would end it because 28 was old for a figure skater and because it was putting an unnecessary strain on his relationship with Yuuri. He had his time to shine, and now he would pass on his torch to Yuuri. He wanted to see Yuuri flourish into the top skater he knew he could be.

He didn’t want to see Yuuri packing a suitcase in their room to leave him.

“Please, _please,_ Yuuri,” He sobbed. “I can’t...you can’t, please don’t leave me,” he begged.

“Viktor….” Yuuri croaked as he fell to his knees in front of him. Viktor sat up and grabbed his shoulders.

“I know I’ve been a horrible fiance and just a horrible person in general, but Yuuri, I’m going to change for you,” He shuddered through his tears, “I’m retiring. I can’t do this anymore. I’m too tired. I’m too tired to do both and I’m not quitting as your coach because being your coach makes me _happy _because _you’re_ happy and that’s all I need. Your smile and the twinkle in your eye. The cheers from the crowds are like a dead melody to me and the roses are all wilted. You’re the only rose I want to keep healthy forever."__

Yuuri had begun to cry and held Viktor’s face in his hand. He realized that he couldn’t change Viktor’s mind because Viktor seemed set on it. He would give up figure skating and go on coaching Yuuri for what was left of his career. He would give it all up for Yuuri and it was something that made his heartache. But he also felt selfish. He never considered Viktor’s feelings throughout this. The arguments. The drinking habits. The drifting apart from each other. Viktor had been placed under an immense amount of stress and Yuuri thought it was their flame that had been burned out. Instead, their flame had been robbed of oxygen. It was placed in a bell jar and was struggling to burn. It couldn’t breathe. 

“I wasn’t going to leave you,” Yuuri explained, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I was packing for Skate America because I needed something to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” Viktor whispered. “I’m so sorry for everything.” 

Yuuri kissed Viktor. He smashed his lips against Viktor’s until they hurt and kissed him like he never had before. He tried to convey all the emotions he had felt in the last couple of months in their kiss. But most importantly of all, he tried to remind Viktor of one undeniable truth: He was in love with him no matter what. He loved him for better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. In sickness and in health. And not even death could do them apart. None of it mattered anymore. The world burned around them. Everything they had once known no longer existed as their flame was reignited with such vigor from the ashes of their past, it melted it all away.

When they pulled away, Yuuri dropped his head into the crook of Viktor’s neck. “I don’t want to be here anymore,” He wept. 

“Where do you want to go?” Viktor asked softly, running his hand through Yuuri’s dark tresses and unable to stop his tears. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go until you feel comfortable enough to come home." 

Yuuri shook his head. “I want to leave Saint Petersburg for good.” 

“Hasetsu, then?” 

“No.” 

“Detroit?" 

“No more. Nowhere from the past.”

Viktor realized what Yuuri had meant. 

The places of the past could no longer be home to them if they wanted to start over. They would have to go somewhere new. Somewhere where they could rebuild their lives. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was something that had to be done. For their sakes. So they could stay together and grow together and be happy and safe and healthy together. So they could finally start the rest of their lives together. Their flame has burned their past but also lit the way for their future. As they carried it together, they became enlightened to three truths. The first. They would be giving up on everything they had come to know The second. No one could know where they went. The third.

They couldn’t live without each other.

 _One, twenty-one guns_  
Lay down your arms  
Give up the fight  
One, twenty-one guns  
Throw up your arms  
Into the sky  
You and I 

They had moved to Southern California.

Packing whatever they could that night into all of their suitcases, they grabbed Makkachin and were on the first flight out. Instead of landing at the crowded LAX airport, they landed in an airport in a city an hour away. Upon landing, Viktor and Yuuri rented the first hotel suite they could find and collapsed. Yuuri had fallen asleep with his shoes off and Viktor made careful work of peeling them off, as well as his clothes, to make him more comfortable. After stripping himself, he crawled into bed with Yuuri and held him for the first time in months. It was like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. They fit together perfectly.

It had been a fight to get their green cards. 

Viktor had called Yuri the next morning and asked him to liquidate all the items in their house, minus some important things, and send all the money. He then told Yuri to tell Yakov that he was retiring. The younger Russian hadn’t taken to the news well but after being explained their circumstances begrudgingly agreed. He also promised to keep their location hidden. 

Next, Yuuri enlisted the help of Leo de La Iglesia and his old choreographer from Detroit. After the two swore to secrecy, the two Americans petitioned for them to receive their green cards for residency and work. Meanwhile, Viktor announced his retirement and Yuuri announced his withdrawal from the Grand Prix series, citing mental health. The figure skating world blew up overnight with two announcements. When reporters rushed to Viktor and Yuuri’s house in Saint Petersburg, they were met by an apathetic Yuri who was tossing out the spoiled remains of dinner ingredients. He stated that he knew nothing and would say nothing, even if he did. When they arrived at Viktor and Yuuri’s home rink, Yakov announced that the retirement was true and that he had no further comments. Unable to work with such a commotion, he sent all of his skaters home.

In months, Yuuri and Viktor received their green cards. As soon as they did, they bought a house in a nice beach city that was close to an ice rink. There, Viktor and Yuuri wedded in a private ceremony with only themselves in attendance. Practically falling off the face of the Earth and all social media, the Instagram picture Viktor posted of their interlocked hands proudly showing off their new wedding rings against an all-white background had sent the media into another frenzy. Yuuri’s accompanying tweet of a single heart emoji had figure skating fans around the world speculating if they had indeed eloped. 

It was a particularly cold morning that Friday in Long Beach. Viktor, always an early riser, had gone out and bought Yuuri a bouquet of 21 roses. He placed them in a vase and set them out on their kitchen island with the card clearly visible. He scribbled the same message on it every single time: “ _I love you_ ”. Yuuri knew where to find Viktor after finding the flowers: on the balcony, watching the ocean waves crash against the beach and hearing the seagulls cry. Yuuri grabbed the throw from the sofa and padded out to the balcony. While it didn’t offer a clear view of the ocean, as another house got partially in the way, it was still a breathtaking view regardless. 

Viktor reclined on a wooden patio chair, his arms folded on his lap and Makkachin at his feet. He looked absolutely serene as he watched the waves. It was a complete opposite of the Viktor who would stumble home drunk and aggressive only months ago. He signed himself up for Alcoholics Anonymous, where he learned to cope with his problems with his words rather than alcohol. In return, Yuuri had begun seeing a therapist for his anxiety. While they still had small arguments from here to there, their life still went on. Viktor officially retired to the ISU, continued as Yuuri’s coach and Yuuri returned back to competition for the Four Continents Championships. The JSF had quite the problem scrambling to find another skater to fill in Yuuri’s spot for the Grand Prix series. They eventually settled on a rising star from Nagoya. 

Viktor looked up at Yuuri when he saw him approach and opened his arms. Yuuri crawled into his lap and pulled his legs up to his chest. Viktor’s arms encircled his waist and his lips pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s soft lips. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Yuuri replied, making sure to cover them both with the throw. He made himself comfortable in Viktor’s lap and rest his head against his chest. A comfortable silence passed over them as they both simply enjoyed each other’s company. Overhead, a seagull cried as it flew out towards the sea.

“Do you think we gave up?” Yuuri finally broke the silence. “Do you think we’re weak?”

Viktor’s silence was long and pregnant with contemplation. “We did give up. But...I don’t think that makes us weak. I fact, I think that makes us strong. We were strong enough to get past one of the roughest patches in our lives. And it made us wiser too. We picked our battles and new it’d be fruitless to try and fight that one. So, in the end, we did what was right.”

Yuuri nodded slowly as he tried to digest his husband’s words. “Do you miss it? Do you miss our home back in Saint Petersburg.” 

Viktor grinned softly at Yuuri’s inquisitiveness. He looked down at the younger man. His eyes were shut and he was missing his glasses, but he knew that he must have been up for a while with the questions searing in his mind. His therapist suggested that he ask Viktor the questions in his mind rather than try and come up with his own answer. It was his way of seeking solace. 

“I do miss Saint Petersburg from time to time. But I don’t miss home,” Viktor paused and tilted Yuuri’s head up to place a kiss on his lips. “My home is with you.” 

__

**Author's Note:**

> Some small notes:  
> While the 21 roses is a reference to the song, 21 roses also mean: "I am dedicated to you."
> 
> The skater from Nagoya referenced is Shoma Uno. Love my Shom Shoms.
> 
> Russia has strict Anti-LGBT laws. There are the laws Yuuri is afraid of.
> 
> The writing in Cyrillic Viktor wrote on the walls is a direct reference to the 21 Guns music video and the lyrics written behind Gloria on the wall that is shot thru. They are:
> 
> Pills and alcohol  
> I've been chasing  
> Down the pool halls  
> Then I drank the water  
> From a hurricane  
> And I set a fire  
> Just to see the flame  
> Well I - I just want to see the light  
> And I - I don't want to lose my sight  
> Well I - I just want to see the light  
> And I need to know what's worth the fight
> 
> The 'Dynamic American Skater' who beat Yuuri at the Lombardia Trophy is Jason Brown, who is skating to Hamilton this season.
> 
> The Quad Axel is a jump that may be landed soon. It is a jump that consists of 4 and a half rotations. The quints are jumps consisting of 5 rotations and are incredibly dangerous.
> 
> The general retirement age for skaters is 22-23. The oldest actively competitive skater I could think of off the top of my head was Jeremy Abbott at 28 but he retired this year (2017). The second is Adam Rippon at 27. 
> 
> The rink referenced at the end is the rink both Adam Rippon and Nathan Chen both skate at. It's the 'Rinks at Lakewood'. 
> 
> The Green Card process is very hard and long, but having the right connections as well as credential can streamline it. In this case, their petitioners were a top US skater and a renowned choreographer. Pair that with Yuuri and Viktor's respective titles, boom. You've got a green card in months.
> 
> If you or a loved one is suffering from alcohol abuse, there is help. The National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism has a hotline you can call at 1 (800)622-HELP (4357). This is the number from the US but if you're outside of the country, please look for help. In the words of Billie Joe Armstrong: "We need to all look out for each other."
> 
> Follow my writing [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/AllegroWrites)for more updates, rambles, and previews.
> 
> Kudos make my day. Comments make them better.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Home for Christmas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739155) by [leebees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leebees/pseuds/leebees)




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